Granted, neither books are new releases. Señor Palma's The Map of Time was published in 2008 and The Map of the Sky in 2012. The third installation in this series is expected... hmm.. I don't know. Will have to ask Simon and Schuster, Señor Palma's publishers.
So, when I recently stumbled on these two books marked at a ridiculous price of US$2.50 each (that's the price for a cup of café allongé a.k.a. coffee - in Paris), so I got them both.
Like all books, I will offer up a word of advice - ignore the over-embellished roaring reviews that are embossed on the jacket or cover of the books. Aside from being the marketing tools publishers use to get readers' buy-in, they're pretty worthless in terms of guiding you through the book itself.
The Map of Time
Right then, The Map of Time, takes place in a Victorian setting and revolves around the principal protagonist, a certain Mr. H.G. Wells.
Yes, that's Herbert George "H.G." Wells, the author of The Time Machine and The War of the Worlds and not the one that appears in SyFy Channel's TV Series Warehouse 13.
The main premise of the book starts in London at the turn of the century being gripped by a rather unusual bout of Time Travel, brought on by the popularity of H.G. Wells' The Time Machine. This unwittingly brings Wells into the picture as the most unlikely saviour (for lack of a better word) of the day.
The story is told in three interweaving parts by a "narrator" who is kind of annoying, so if you can ignore the annoying fashion with which he delivers the story, you should be OK.
I wont give the story away but suffice to say that there's a crime solving murder element, solutions that involve a rather elaborate sleight of hand and the future, with romance and a good dose of mystery thrown into the mix for good measure.
It was a delightful read, for Señor Palma wonderfully infused the essence of the Victorian charm into the narrative, allowing my imagination to travel back in time to a bygone time in a city I was once exiled to, London. Pun, intended.
But, the plot was a bit difficult to follow, especially in the third part, as I had to pause from the reading and go back a couple of pages to retrace my steps. Maybe it's me.. possibly. By the time I approached the end of the book, I remember thinking, "what the hell..?"
Though it isn't one of those books that leaves you breathless and gasping for more, it is one that may make you utter the inquisitive "hmm" or the unexpected "huh.." On that note, essentially it is an enjoyable and entertaining leisure read.
The Map of the Sky
Now, I had a rather more enjoyable experience with the sequel - The Map of the Sky. Again set against a Victorian backdrop, this time the story evolves around the romantic exploits of an American millionaire's attempt to court an English socialite. H.G. Wells is again unwittingly thrown into the mix after his War of the Worlds becomes the central pivot of this abnormal romance. Undoubtedly, there were moments - especially early on - where I found myself gazing rather confusingly into the cosmos of my ceiling wall, attempting to comprehend the appearance of two plots, one of which would dominate the story. I ignored that mildly irritating fork in the road of this tale and continued reading it, despite the protests that were being hurled at me by my deeper conscience.
Truth be told, I got annoyed at the "narrator" again and it was a wee bit lengthy in parts. I really had to restrain the urge to skim through some parts. Persevere....
The appearance of the seemingly 'abandoned' plot toward the end did somewhat unsettle me, especially as it felt relatively rushed compared to the more elaborate way in which the predominant plot was unravelled. Perhaps it is the curse of the sequel.. I've no idea.
Having said that though, it was to me a rather compelling read. The lyrical storytelling is flavoured with a healthy dose of the curious, weird and sometimes wonderful, as well as an elegant tinge of humour. I liked it, even with its weird twists and turns. I simply couldn't put it down, nor could I leave it at home whenever I dashed out on errands or to meet friends.
The thing is, growing up I avoided literary classics in my misspent youth, preferring the outdoors to the dreary prospect of reading boring old novels. Even if I was forced to read them, I forgot the plot fairly quickly, so none of the classics were ever retained in my long-term memory.
However, having read these two books, I felt compelled to correct the mistakes of my youth and get copies of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds and The Time Machine; Bram Stoker's Dracula and Jules Verne's A Journey to the Centre of the Earth. Don't ask me why.
And, unashamedly, I can safely say that I am kind of looking forward to Señor Palma's third and final installation of this Victorian trilogy.
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